If you were cold and aloof in your past life, why are you crying in this one?

A chill ran down Xi Lingxian's spine. Was it Empress Yu who did this? What was she after?

Yu is her sister, yet she found a woman who resembled his first wife for her brother-in-law?

After the dance ended, the dancer gracefully bowed, holding a wine cup, and walked slenderly to Xi Jian's desk.

"General~" the woman's voice was so soft it could melt water, "This humble servant toasts the General."

All eyes were on this side; some were watching the spectacle, while others were gloating.

Xi Jian didn't even glance at him.

The dancer waited for a moment, and seeing that he did not react, a thin blush rose on her face, but it did not fade. She took half a step forward, and her voice became more and more melodious.

"General, you are always away on campaigns. I have long admired you. It is my great honor to meet you today..."

"That's enough!"

Xi Jian suddenly stood up, his voice, neither too loud nor too soft, like a knife chilled to the bone.

His face was ashen, and his eyes, which could strike fear into the hearts of enemy soldiers on the battlefield, were now fixed on the face of the woman in front of him.

There was no pity or emotion in his eyes, only a furious rage at being offended to the extreme.

"Who sent you?"

The dancer's smile froze on her face, her hand holding the wine cup trembling slightly. "General, I just..."

"I'm asking you!" Xi Jian's gaze was sharp as a knife. "Who sent you?"

The dancer was so frightened by his imposing manner that her face turned deathly pale, her lips trembling and unable to speak. She instinctively looked in the direction of the emperor and empress, feeling panicked and helpless.

The hall was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

"My dear minister, this is the sentiment of the Empress and me."

Xi Jian suddenly looked up at the emperor.

The emperor met his gaze. "I have heard that you, my dear minister, are deeply devoted to your wife, who died young. You must be heartbroken. I pity your hard work and great achievements, and remember your deep affection and loyalty. That is why I have found this woman for you—"

"I think that having someone serving you by your side is a small comfort."

Xi Jian remained silent.

He stood there, his gaze shifting from the emperor's face to the dancer's face, a face that bore a striking resemblance to his deceased wife.

Like.

It looks like it.

The more similar it looked, the more disgusted he felt.

"comfort?"

Xi Jian's voice suddenly changed. It was no longer the cold, hard voice that had been suppressing his anger, but a deep, burning rage that surged from his chest, almost tearing something apart.

He looked at the emperor, speaking slowly and deliberately:

"Your Majesty said that I should use this woman to console my grief over the loss of my wife?"

The emperor's smile froze for a moment, then returned: "My dear minister, I meant well—"

"Good intentions?" Xi Jian's voice suddenly rose, startling everyone in the hall. "My wife is my lawfully wedded wife, married with all the proper rites and formalities. She is the matriarch of the Xi family and the mother of my two children. She stood by me through the most difficult days and supported this family."

He abruptly turned to the dancer, his gaze sharp as a knife:

"Who do you think you are?"

The dancer trembled at his shout, dropping her wine cup with a crash to the ground, spilling wine everywhere.

"You think you can replace her just because you have a face like that?" Xi Jian's voice lowered, but became increasingly cold and stern. "You're not worthy."

The dancer's face went from deathly pale to ashen, her lips trembled as if she wanted to say something, but she couldn't utter a single word.

There was a dead silence in the hall.

The emperor's expression finally changed; the smile gradually faded from his face, replaced by a pale complexion that was hard to describe as either embarrassment or anger.

"My dear minister," his voice turned cold, "I meant no harm, you—"

Xi Jian turned his head, looking directly at the emperor with a burning, unwavering gaze. "Does Your Majesty believe that my wife can be replaced by a dancer?"

"My wife," Xi Jian choked, paused, and said, word by word, "when she was alive, she was the one I cherished most; even after she's gone, she remains the only wife in my heart."

"Anyone who appears before me bearing her appearance will only disgust me!"

The dancer finally couldn't hold on any longer and collapsed to her knees with a thud, trembling all over and tears streaming down her face.

Xi Jian did not look at her again.

He bowed to the emperor and said, "I am not a good drinker and must take my leave now."

After saying this, he turned and left without waiting for the emperor's response.

As he passed by Xi Lingxian's desk, he paused and glanced at his daughter.

That glance held affection, pain, and an indescribable heartache.

As Xi Lingxian watched her father's figure disappear outside the palace gates, she felt as if her heart had been squeezed. She looked at the dancers still kneeling on the ground inside the palace, and then at the stiff expression on the emperor's face.

Over the years, countless people have tried to use their beauty to gain access to their fathers' inner circle, but all have failed.

Does the emperor truly believe that this performance is a reward for meritorious officials?

He deserves to be a puppet!

……

Wang Jue sat at the table without uttering a single word from beginning to end.

His gaze remained fixed on Xi Jian.

From the moment the dancer approached with a wine cup, to Xi Jian suddenly standing up, and then to the resounding words "You are not worthy" echoing in the hall.

He watched as the unyielding general, with an almost resolute air, shattered the emperor's "goodwill."

In the silence of the hall, he saw Xi Jian's figure disappear outside the hall gate.

His back was ramrod straight, yet it exuded an indescribable desolation.

Was he truly so deeply in love with his wife? Or was he putting on an act to impress everyone and plant a spy by his side to thwart the emperor's advances?

unknown.

Wang Jue raised his head, his gaze subtly shifting towards his father.

King Dun sat at the head of the court, the wine in the golden goblet before him untouched, his unfathomable eyes watching everything that was happening in the hall.

His face was expressionless, revealing neither joy nor anger; it was as deep and unfathomable as an ancient well. Even the emperor's changing expression did not cause him to flinch.

The father and son's eyes met silently in mid-air.

Wang Jue nodded slightly, very lightly and faintly. Wang Dun nodded almost imperceptibly and looked away.

The deathly silence in the hall continued.

The emperor's smile faded, his face turning pale and then flushed.

The ministers lowered their heads, and none of them dared to utter a sound.

Wang Dun put down the wine cup in his hand very gently. The golden cup landed on the table with a very faint thud.

But in this deathly silence, the sound was like a pebble thrown into a deep pool, stirring up silent ripples.

He straightened up, bowed, and said, "Your Majesty."

The emperor's gaze suddenly turned, a flash of wariness crossing his eyes.

Wang Dun met his gaze, his expression deep and unreadable.

"Lord Xi and his wife are deeply in love, and no other woman has been by their side all these years. I believe—"

He paused, a hint of ambiguity creeping into his tone, "If he wanted to find someone to replace his wife, why would he need Your Majesty to do it?"

Wang Dun's words were like a knife, revealing what the emperor least wanted people to see.

He was the emperor, but the affairs of the court were never decided by him alone.

Even when he tried to place someone next to a general, he was publicly rejected and Wang Dun casually reprimanded him, saying, "Why bother Your Majesty?"

The emperor gripped the wine vessel tightly, his knuckles turning white.

His Adam's apple bobbed, and he twitched his lips into a stiff smile.

"Grand Commandant Wang is right." His voice was hoarse. "It was I... who failed to think things through."

Wang Dun nodded slightly, his expression unchanged.

Wang Jue withdrew his gaze, picked up the wine cup in front of him, and took a sip.

The liquor is clear and refreshing, but there is a faint bitterness when it goes down the throat.

The imperial court has never been a peaceful place.

The emperor was unwilling to be a puppet, and the powerful clans were unwilling to relinquish power. Generals like Xi Jian, who held military power, were the kind of figures that both sides wanted to win over, test, and be wary of.

After tonight, no one will think about whether the emperor has been plotted against.

It's all his own fault for being stupid.